Where were you when Europe fell apart?

Too many Europeans have too long avoided the question of Europe. To prevent the EU from turning into a "post-democratic regime of bureaucrats", intellectuals need to stop mumbling and take their and our fear of Europe seriously

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The meeting of EU heads of government in Brussels on 9 December was the
latest in the series of "critical events" shaping the future of the
union. The same fateful aura has surrounded every summit during the past
year. This time, though, it is possible that truly crucial decisions
were taken that will start off an irreversible chain-reaction with no
defined endpoint. In any case, there are bound to be consequences as
groups form around the common currency – insiders, outsiders and
prospective insiders – and become institutionalized and linked to
political power in an entirely new way.

For several days after the meeting, the media were overflowing
with comment and opinion. Two issues dominated: how will the markets
respond, and which member countries emerged as winners and losers? Ever
since the Greek debt crisis hit the headlines, the same questions have
been hammered home, month after month, week after week. They have come
to conceal not only the political processes leading to course-altering
decisions, but also say something essential about a grave loss of
meaning. What has happened to the citizens, to the democratic idea and
the fundamental principles of popular rule in current discussions about
Europe?
Writing recently in Die Zeit, Thomas Assheuer asked, in an accusatory tone, where all the intellectuals were when the European project collapsed. Eurozine has published an entire series of articles
and conversations on the euro crisis that, more or less explicitly, ask
the same question. Clearly, far too many Europeans have avoided the
"the question of Europe". They hide behind their comfortable mumbled
exchanges. They have avoided investigating the real political conflicts.
They have gone with the flow. They have dodged taking a stand in
difficult political debates. The intellectual toolkit required for
orientation seems to have got lost. When things that matter are suddenly
at risk – democracy, politics, security – waking up to that chilly
world triggers a sense of general incomprehension.

When
I read the novels of W.G. Sebald for the first time, some ten years
ago, the pessimism then, in the wake of 9/11, was as deep as it is now.
They exerted an hypnotic effect. It was like tumbling headlong into
European memories of human helplessness and political violence: the
Holocaust, the insistence on borders, the streams of refugees, the
disorientation. Sebald transforms history from a time-line that allows
us to leave catastrophes behind into a building where they still exist
in different spaces; where, in some sense, they are still happening, so
that the survivors and their descendants are condemned to wander from
one to another.
Sebald's novels remind us of the crucial element of every affirmation
of the European idea: fear of Europe. As I read, the effect was like a
depth charge with delayed release. It contributed to my feeling that,
for the first time, my arguments for a federal Europe would have to be
formulated more precisely.

In the middle of the political upheavals, I was by chance pulled back into the literary world of Sebald. Now, as I read Austerlitz,
his last novel, that feeling returns. But this time it is because I
also note how the ruling elites of the continent – the heads of
governments, technocrats and commissioners – seem to have forgotten the
constitutional fear of post-war Europe. They are no longer in touch with
what has been called "the European experience" – with Sebald's world.

But the extent of their loss seems to be greater still. When the Arab
Spring erupted, European leaders shied away for as long as possible from
demanding that the old tyrants retire. It was not hard to decode their
message: rather undemocratic stability than insecure democracy. The
intervention in Libya was a relief. But the distrust had already grown
roots. European politicians seemed to have lost their democratic
reflexes. Might this not be seen as a sign that in a conceivable
European emergency – perhaps when the consensus about the euro cracks
and the union is shaken to pieces – stability would be also prioritized
over democracy?

Smuggled out from an Italian prison island in the Mediterranean, Altiero
Spinelli's fabled manifesto for a federal Europe circulated among
democrats and veterans of the resistance during the final stages of WW2.
Many had drawn the conclusion that only a united Europe could conquer
nationalism and offer protection against new tyrants, which at that time
above all meant the rulers in Moscow.

A few years later, the Cold War now underway, the Swedish liberal
Herbert Tingsten wrote the following about the experience of the
disintegration during the inter-war years: "We may be of the Right, or
Liberals or Socialists: we will not tolerate the chaos which a few
decades ago was described as 'economic freedom'. In a democratic state,
the people must not live in misery and unemployment." At the time,
Tingsten was the towering figure in Sweden's intellectual life. As the
editor-in-chief of Dagens Nyheter, the most widely circulated
broadsheet in the country, he dominated the debate with his cultural
radicalism and uncompromising anti-communism. Pessimism and failing
political will during the inter-war years had, he argued, "rendered the
world desolate for the people".

In Austerlitz, Sebald meditates over and over again on three
kinds of buildings: the railway station, the library and the fortress
turned prison camp. They come to represent the historical corner stones
of modern Europe, embodying the dream of travel, the need to properly
order memory and the recurring desire to lock people up.

These texts – by Spinelli, Tingsten and Sebald – span the movement
that successively united Europe, a movement driven by the ambition to
control capitalism, nationalism and, above all, Germany. What came to be
seen as the European experience is the negative pole: never to be
forgotten, we must distance ourselves from it and invent another Europe.
There is reason for us to remind ourselves of these things, once so
self-evident. The conclusions of Spinelli, Tingsten and Sebald stand in
stark contrast to the comments that have dominated media and politics in
recent months. Reading them is like waking up after a long period of
deep sleep.

During the euro crisis, a small circle of government leaders together
with technocrats from the European Central Bank (ECB) have grabbed for
themselves the right to take far-reaching decisions. In memos from civil
servants in the Commission they have even been collectively referred to
as "the Frankfurt group". The past six months have seen weekly
declarations to the effect that the EU is ruled by the wealthy nations
and that indebted states must accept tutelage. Shameless moves have been
made to capture power from the Commission in Brussels and transfer it
to the assertive Berlin-Paris axis.

The summit meeting on 9 December reinforced this pattern and attempted
to provide it with more formal legitimacy. EU heads of government are
now to meet more often and will eventually form the political nexus of
the Union. Power shifts inexorably towards a circle of people who will
discuss all issues and finalize all decisions behind closed doors. In
their hands, politics will change into diplomacy, public debate into
cunning power games and the European idea into negotiations between
states.

In this situation, the polemical essay by Jürgen Habermas on constitutional jurisprudence, Zur Verfassung Europas,
has become a welcome "call to arms" in defence of the EU's progress in
the direction of civilization and democracy. Recent developments have
arguably added edge to his warning that, in the shadow cast by the
crisis, the Union risks being transformed into a "post-democratic regime
of bureaucrats". In fact, the Commission (intended as the forum for
small member nations) and the Parliament (the forum for the citizens)
are crowded out from crucial decision-making. The movement initiated by
the Lisbon treaty, which despite its many shortcomings provided an
impetus towards a uniquely transnational democracy, is now seriously
threatened.

According to Habermas, the fact that an elite is closing ranks around
the EU, seeing it as a private, elitist project, is "insolent". The
outcome of this insolence is that the citizenry is once more attracted
to the illusion of nationhood, complete with the historically
only-too-familiar package of border patrols, anti-European rhetoric and
xenophobia. If you perceive the world as "rendered desolate for the
people", all this will add up to a popular step backwards, reassuring
and rational.

During the debt crisis, democracy has become the forgotten factor on
the national as well as the EU level. Both Italy and Greece have
acquired heads of government who are "apolitical" technocrats. This fact
may mark a transition to political systems that are less corrupt and
"client-oriented", but in difficult political situations, technocracies
must be regarded with considerable scepticism. Even though in both
countries the governments are scrutinized by parliaments elected by
popular vote, the arrival of technocrats indicates (especially in Italy,
where the entire cabinet is a collection of experts) that democracy has
edged closer to the point where it might be eliminated or seriously
curtailed by an administrative emergency decision.

Actually, there should be no need even to worry. Similar transitional
governments are, after all, not unusual. However, the pressure to calm
"the market" is now so intense that departures from democratic rules may
well be accepted in an acute crisis situation. Other heads of
government will look away, as will that powerful grey eminence, the ECB,
and perhaps the anxious, stressed public as well. Successful actions by
a government of experts might tempt postponements of scheduled
parliamentary elections for the sake of stability. Failures could cause
total political disasters, driven by "the markets", causing the
citizenry to lose trust both in appointed technocrats and in duly
elected politicians, warns
José Ignacio Torreblanca. The continent, he continues, is in state of a
democratic crisis that is damaging in two respects: "While democracy
(as the capacity to self-govern) evaporates on a national level, it does
not reappear anywhere else, least of all where it ought to – in Europe.
On the contrary: instead of reinforcing democracy in Europe, the crisis
is bolstering technocracy on two levels: on the national level [...]
and on the European level."

In his book, Ill Fares the Land, Tony Judt predicted that
neoliberal agitation for a "minimal state" would cease after the crash
in 2008 and be replaced by the return of the state and a battle about
its characteristics: should it be democratic or authoritarian, kindly or malevolent, based on surveillance or trust? He turned out to be right. That battle is being fought already.

The longstanding, wishful call for "more Europe" has been converted into
a meaningless platitude. Sharper, more focused opinions are now
necessary: the parliament must be the engine of politics, the Commission
must submit to the will of the parliament, social responsibility and a
redistributive policy from wealthy to poor regions must become a reality
– otherwise there is no future either for the euro or the European idea.

For the first time, this can be said without risking being regarded as
a stranded dreamer. The Parliament has backed some form of fiscal
rights and the Commission favours a Tobin tax on financial transactions.
Anyone who can bear reading through Barroso's speeches and written
utterances will discover that, post-2008, neoliberal keywords have been
cautiously replaced by the vocabulary of social concern. The IMF states
that growing inequality is a causative factor in the crisis. If the
different party groupings decide, as some have actually discussed, to
nominate their own candidates for the presidency of the Commission in
the next European elections, the result will be a democratic landslide
in favour of federation.

The situation is contradictory, both ominous and hopeful. Europe once
again finds itself at a critical junction: it can decide either on a
"post-democratic regime of bureaucrats" or else on a transnational
democracy, reinvented but in the federalist spirit. The EU has long been
moving towards such a democratic solution; now, for the first time, it
is within reach. However, as Jürgen Habermas has written, it requires
that the heads of government in the European Council are willing to go
for "something that is contrary to their own interest, i.e. holding on
to power". This is more or less the same conclusion as that drawn a few
years ago by the political scientist Simon Hix, who in his book What's Wrong with the European Union and How to Fix It argues the Lisbon treaty has greater potential than we believe.

Joschka Fischer is of course right when he points out
that it is unrealistic to look for a new and better treaty. His fears
that Europe might become re-nationalized are confirmed when one observes
the successful attempts by the heads of government to strengthen their
positions of power in the European Council. But Fischer's radical
pessimism seems to overwhelm him to the point of inaction. Perhaps his
desire for a political Big Bang, as well as a tailor-made federal
constitution, blinds him to the opportunities that might still be
available. To identify these minor opportunities and expand them later:
isn't that how federalists have always worked? Continued democratization
and politicization are possible if elected politicians demonstrate a
will to act. But this is not going to happen without a process of
opinion-formation and with intellectuals and politicians taking a clear
public stance.

For a long time, political scientists and economists have argued that
the euro will cause either fragmentation or federalism, since monetary
union is impossible without fiscal coordination. A cautious
interpretation based on the recent European summit meetings, and the
latest one in particular, suggests that the profound crisis of the euro
could, in the best case, deliver the push towards integration that many
have predicted. The euro mechanism would then lead to Europe reversing
into a stronger political union, albeit at an appallingly high social
cost. The subdivision into A-, B- and C-teams currently being mooted
could be the first step in a slowly unfolding logical progression, in
which countries outside the eurozone are squeezed ever further onto the
periphery, and finally out of the EU itself. But a stronger political
union, with a common policy on control and stabilization and with the
euro as the adhesive, would force the member states to choose whether to
stay or go: no euro, no EU membership. If this is so, the decisions
currently being made are leading not to division and fragmentation but
are moves towards a much more complex integration process. However this
cannot not take place unless the issues of popular rule, citizenship and
democracy are brought centre stage. What, then, would be the character
of this European super-state, in many ways such a strange concept? That
question awaits our answers – our taking sides.

Any investigation of Europe, wherever you start and whichever direction
you take at first, ends up in Germany. So it is interesting that the
"German question" is now returning to the political debate, albeit
formulated in new ways. Joschka Fischer has said that Germany, conscious
of its historical role, has until now driven the realization of the
European idea, but he is concerned that Germany may now have lost
interest. However, the new "German question" has surely begun to change
shape. Germany, aware of the strength that Fischer fears, has insisted
on the submission of other nations and on continued integration
according to conditions set from Berlin. What is about to change is the
unwritten contract between Germany and the rest of the continent on the
subject of the European idea.

In his Zürich lectures on Luftkrieg und Literatur [English title: On the Natural History of Destruction],
W. G. Sebald drew attention to the British carpet bombing of Nazi
Germany and the fire storms in Hamburg. An eye-witness describes how a
woman trying to escape from the burning city carried the charred remains
of her dead infant in her suitcase until, on a strange railway
platform, the lock broke and the contents fell out. Sebald's strong
empathy with the Germans provokes emotions that expose the continued
charge carried by European history. I am aware of it as a gut feeling.
Usually hidden, but when the lock suddenly bursts, the reactions are
immediate.

For many years now, the glass civil service tower in Brussels has been
the target of vague European unease. In a sense, this unease has
focused on a blank space, a faceless, impersonal symbol. However, as the
protests begin to shift in the direction of where the decisions are
actually being made, towards Berlin, other, more unpleasant ghosts have
emerged from history. Does this demonstrate that the public interprets
current developments in terms of the replacement of the European idea by
another geopolitical power structure? Is Germany once again the
European problem?

I believe that, for once, Jürgen Habermas is misjudging the matter when he argues
that the link between the European project and the concept of peaceful
coexistence is no longer relevant. The national, chauvinistic and
separatist passions sweeping through Hungary, northern Italy, Denmark
and other countries indicate the opposite. The European experience has
not been conquered. The demons that the European project succeeded in
defeating still wait to take revenge. Fear of Europe has become no less
valid.

Recently, I saw a new production of Oresteia by Aeschylus, a
trilogy of plays about how Athens progressed from blood vendettas and
spiralling violence to social order based on law. In a strange way, it
seemed to correspond directly to the European drama now unfolding in the
streets of Athens and at the summit meetings in Brussels, and reflected
in the morning papers arriving on my doorstep. At a transnational
level, the process of the European Union's astonishing advance has been
similar. But this advance cannot reach its conclusion without the
Union's decision-making system becoming more democratic and more
transparent. Procrastination is no longer an option.